


two of us

by Cookabeara



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Crushes, F/F, Fluff, Hair Braiding, Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Tickle Fights, and also some hand holding, some awkward dancing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:40:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25313980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cookabeara/pseuds/Cookabeara
Summary: Sometimes, time spent with another can be worth leaving the comfort of solitude.A collection of shared moments between a certain pair of Black Eagles.
Relationships: Petra Macneary/Bernadetta von Varley
Comments: 15
Kudos: 56





	1. distraction

**Author's Note:**

> this was originally meant to be a self-indulgent little one-shot, but my brain inevitably kept going :)
> 
> that said, I'll update tags & whatnot when relevant.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While tasked with weeding the monastery grounds, Bernadetta learns something new about Petra.

Tending to plants on a warm day was an ideal activity if Bernadetta simply _had_ to leave her room. Thankfully, the Professor was willing to compromise, and allowed Bernadetta to take care of the weeding that afternoon.

The tickle of grass under her palm and the warm breeze that made the lawn shimmer certainly made it worth leaving her haven. Of course, she wasn’t assigned such a task _alone._ As she dug her fingers into the dirt, she held back the urge to sing — or even hum, for that matter — a tune to herself out of fear that she would be ridiculed for doing so. 

“This one, here?”

“Yeah — and that one, too.”

But, gosh, Petra was just so _nice._ And she seemed to listen — and seemed like she _wanted_ to listen — to whatever Bernie had to say. The princess seemed especially keen on learning whatever she could about the region’s vegetation as they tended to the greenery of the monastery. And it was a good thing, too; talking about plants kept Bernadetta in high spirits, but it also kept her from doing something embarrassing — like singing to herself.

“You know so much about the plants, Bernie. You are giving me— wait, no…” Petra paused a moment, searching for the right way to phrase what she wanted to say. The way her nose scrunched to meet her knit brow in a pondering pinch got a giggle to rise from Bernadetta’s chest. The pensive look was soon replaced by one of confidence. “You are impressive, Bernie.”

“I-Impressive? I don’t know if I’d go that far.”

“Yes, impressive!” She tapped her chin thoughtfully, a smile splitting her face. “I have been thinking you are showing more confidence lately. The way you have been holding your bow...it is full of strength.”

Huh? Bernadetta felt everything go hot at the compliment. Her tingling, nervous fingers slipped in among the messy tangle of curls on her head.

“Me? Really?” she squeaked. Petra couldn’t possibly be saying such kind things about Bernie.

This had to be a joke.

“Really,” Petra affirmed. “I am learning a lot from you, Bernadetta.”

Well, joke or not, it was hard to stop thinking about the exchange as the two of them continued their task.

Honestly, how unfair of Petra to compliment Bernie (Bernie, of all people!) so easily while she herself had so many things she wanted to tell Petra. Petra, who studied and trained hard knowing she had such an important future ahead of her. Petra, who was brave in the face of adversity — which happened to come in the form of being so far away from the home she loved. She truly admired Petra, but she knew trying to say these things to her directly was only asking for humiliation.

Distracted by her flustered inner monologue, Bernadetta didn’t notice her foot catch on the stone beneath it until she was falling.

And there wasn’t much to do to prevent the consequential position she landed in. After a rather clumsy “oof,” Bernadetta scrambled to lift herself from whatever had cushioned her.

Oh.

Petra stared up at her, brown eyes wide with surprise as Bernadetta straddled her.

“Oh, oh no. Petra, I’m so sorry! P-Please don’t hate me I—”

Her panic was interrupted by a heart-melting laugh.

“I would never be hating you, Bernie. I am sorry that I did not catch you.” She giggled, features creased with delight. “Since you fell on me anyway, it seems I was not needing to worry.”

“Y-You’re not mad?”

“No, Bernie. I am not mad.”

Right. Okay. Good. Bernadetta began to move off, hand brushing against Petra’s waist in the process. Petra flinched away from the accidental touch, another giggle escaping her. Bernadetta froze.

“P-Petra? Are you…?”

The princess frowned at her, eyebrow raised in question.

“Am I…?”

“A-Are you ticklish?”

“Ticklish?” she asked. Before Bernadetta could muster up an explanation that didn’t sound weird, Petra was hit with the understanding. “Oh! You are asking if when you touch me it will make me laugh.”

Well, that was weird, too, but Bernadetta couldn’t fault Petra for it.

“Y-Yeah.”

“Then, yes.”

Bernadetta blinked, a bit astonished by the bluntness of the answer. Then again, that was just how Petra was.

She didn’t know what overcame her, but Bernadetta found herself giving Petra’s side a light, experimental pinch. Petra shifted away from her touch, drawing her shoulders up as she involuntarily tittered. Cute.

Soon, Bernadetta’s deft fingers were assaulting Petra’s sides with light pokes and pinches. This sent Petra into a fit of howling laughter as she squirmed, slowly sliding away from Bernadetta. That, of course, didn’t stop the young noblewoman’s pursuit.

“Aaah! Bernie!” Petra cried, again at the mercy of her friend’s barrage of light prods despite an attempted escape. They were both laughing now, in a chorus of jovial cackles and snickers.

Unfortunately, Bernadetta’s reign could not last. Once Petra broke free, she pounced.

This hunter would certainly not let the rabbit get the best of her.

By now, most everyone was probably used to hearing Bernadetta’s squeal in the halls of the monastery. But this time, there was no terror or panic behind it — just pure delight. Many vain attempts were made to stop the counterattack on her own sides and tummy, but Petra was too quick. Her hands would slither out of Bernadetta’s fumbling grips and grabs before the noblewoman could push her off.

Alas, all good fun would have to come to an end. Bernadetta felt her belly beginning to ache, and she was unable to put a stop to it herself.

“Stop! Stop!” she pleaded, still giggling weakly. “N-No more! Please!”

Petra did as she was told and ceased her tickling touches. Bernadetta let out a sigh of relief, letting her arms collapse in the grass. Petra peered down at her, a victorious grin plastered across her face.

“Then I have won?”

“W-Won? This was a competition?”

“I have made the decision that it is.”

The two of them shared a giggle at that. Petra rolled off of Bernadetta, splaying herself out on the ground beside her.

“That was...fun. I haven’t had a tickle fight since I was little,” Bernadetta said — more to herself, really. But she knew Petra would listen, and knew she would listen earnestly.

“I also had fun! Just know that the next time, I am not intending to be losing to you,” Petra declared, settling on her side to face the other girl. Bernadetta rolled over to meet her gaze. Blades of grass grazed her hands and cheeks. It was no bed or pillow, but there was still solace to be found in the surroundings. Especially with Petra there, watching her warmly.

“You mean we’re doing this again?”

“I have decided we will, if that is okay with Bernie.”

“...yeah. I’m okay with it.”

There was still some weeding to be done, but it could wait. Right now, it felt like there was no one else in the world but her and Petra — and Bernie really liked that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> getting positive feedback on my previous stuff has really helped to motivate me to write more (though I'm still terrible at responding to compliments ahaha) so thanks for all that !! :))
> 
> you can also find me & my silly art on twitter (@Cookabeara).


	2. intertwined

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bernie never has positive thoughts concerning her own hair, or herself, for that matter.
> 
> But Petra does.

By the next time the two of them were assigned to weeding the monastery grounds, they’d developed an efficient rhythm. Bernadetta felt rather proud of how fast and how well they managed to get the job done.

With a contented sigh that dissipated into the breeze, Bernadetta took a seat in the lawn. Part of her was nagging to return to her quarters now that she had finished. The other part of her? Well…

Petra stood up, using her sleeve to wipe the sweat from her brow. She tossed her braid over her shoulder, the swift movement catching Bernie’s eye. The way she carried herself was so calculated and proper; she really was just like the kind of princess Bernadetta had read about (and written about, as it happens) in, admittedly, very cheesy books.

Bernadetta combed a hand through her bangs, mussing them and pulling them outward. They sprung back to land against her forehead in a curly tangle.

When she blew them out of her face with a puff, she was met with Petra’s attentive gaze. She swallowed a scream, having immediately pulled the worst-case scenario up to mind as to why such scrutiny could be directed at her.

“W-What?” she stuttered fearfully. Petra blinked.

“Oh.” She beamed. “I was just thinking about how cute you were looking.”

“H-Huh?”

“We should be going to give the Professor our report.” She was just going to leave it at that?

“R-Right now? We just got done. Can’t we just...stay here for a bit?”

“I was going to have my training after this.”

“Jeez, Petra, don’t you want a rest?” Bernadetta asked, raising her voice a bit. She clamped a hand over her mouth, the heat rising up from her neck to singe the tip of her ears. She hurriedly squeaked out an, “I’m sorry!” in hopes she had not triggered Petra’s wrath.

“Why are you giving apologies? You are...having a point.” She shifted on her feet, pressing uncertain swivels into the grass with her boots. “You...are thinking it is appropriate for me to rest?” 

“You’ll burn yourself out if you don’t. I-I know it’s not the same, but...I can’t handle leaving my room for too long. L-Like I said, it’s not the same! You’re actually working hard while I’m just cowering behind my door.”

Her fingers became fixated on the curl that had fallen upon her nose, pulling it and letting it go to feel it spring back into place.

“I am understanding, Bernie. There isn’t much difference. Working hard for Bernie just means finding courage.” Yeah, something like that. At least, it felt kind of good to hear Petra phrase it that way. “I think I will...there is a saying you have…I will be taking a page from Bernie’s book.”

“Yeah? Well, I don’t recommend you take any more than that one,” Bernadetta murmured with a giggle.

“Would you be allowing me to have a rest with you, Bernadetta?”

“Yes! Yes, of course!” the overly eager way in which she blurted her response had her blushing again. Pull yourself together, Bernie, honestly—

Petra settled at her side. Oh, dear, and Bernie was holding her breath. She exhaled slowly, shoulders slumping forward. Really, she shouldn’t be this tense around her!

She frowned when she noticed a tickle by her ear. It took her a moment to realize Petra had her fingers in her hair. She bit her lip, feeling her eyes water. She knew her hair was an utter mess — brushing it was a hassle and she hated looking at it in the mirror. All those stupid curls that seemed to emerge from the mass on her head undoubtedly made her look disheveled. She would just end up staring back at Bernie: a stupid, scruffy, unmarriageable rat. And she certainly didn’t help her case by constantly grabbing at it when she got nervous, teasing more and more curls to the surface.

“I-I know it looks awful,” she stuttered through the tears welling up in her eyes, “I t-try not to think about it…”

“Awful?” Petra repeated, singing her confusion into Bernadetta’s ear. “I am not thinking it is awful. I actually have l— no, wait...I like your hair, Bernie. It has softness.”

“You...like it?”

“Yes! Soft and...bouncy.” She giggled. Bernadetta felt her heart dance to the tune. “You are reminding me more and more of a rabbit every day, Bernie.”

Bernadetta puffed her cheeks out. Sure, she was skittish, and small, but—

Petra twirled a lock of her purple hair around a finger. Well, maybe it wasn’t such a bad comparison after all.

“Bernie?”

“...hmm?”

“May I…braid your hair?”

“Braid? My hair? You can do that? I-I mean, with  _ my  _ hair?”

More laughter. “Yes. I am thinking they will be suiting you well.” Petra patted her leg. “You can use my lap to sit.”

“O-Okay!”

Trembling (with anxiety? Anticipation? She wasn’t sure anymore), Bernadetta pushed herself up off the ground just long enough to reposition herself in Petra’s lap. It felt rather intimate. Again, she couldn’t recall being this close to another person since Yuri. And, well, thinking of how that ended made Bernadetta want to jump up and shut herself away.

But she stopped herself.

She winced at the tug on the back of her head. It was uncomfortable only for a moment, but she quickly grew accustomed to the tension that resulted from Petra slowly weaving tight bundles of hair. She had experienced her fair share of hair-pulling, and this was nothing like that.

“You, uhm,” Bernadetta found herself guilty for breaking the comfortable silence, so she quickly shut herself up. Hearing an inviting and considerate hum buzz behind her, she decided to follow through with her question. “You do this with your own hair every morning?”

“I do.”

“W-Wow. I could never spend that much time with my hair.” And she didn’t want to. “Is it...hard?”

“When you are first learning, it can be.”

“Is it...is it anything like...knitting?”

“I think it has similarities, yes.” She felt Petra release the tiny section of intertwined hair, her stomach dropping with disappointment at the loss of contact. To her pleasant surprise, Petra only paused a moment before taming a few more of her curls, gathering them into her hands to repeat the process.

“Maybe you could teach me.”

She felt Petra’s fingers let up for a moment. “You are wanting me to teach you how to make a braid?”

“Yeah! I probably won’t be very good at it, but maybe I could help you— oh, forget it.”

“I am sure you can learn how! You have great talent, Bernie.”

That hot sensation of a blush had spread across Bernie’s face again. She tried to focus on Petra’s gentle hands rather than the praise she so easily graced her with. So casual! And with her nickname, too — that name she used too often when berating herself. But when Petra used it, she was so  _ encouraging. _

When Petra started on the fourth braid, Bernadetta found herself wishing she had brought along her embroidery. Still, it wasn’t often that she found herself so secure in someone else’s presence. So, just sitting here seemed like enough.

“Can you turn to be facing me?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Sure.”

Bernadetta got up to reposition herself in front of Petra, tucking her legs in a criss-cross fashion as Petra had also done. Petra grinned.

“Beautiful.”

“D-Don’t say that,” Bernadetta squeaked, pulling up the collar of her uniform to hide her reddening face. An amused chuckle escaped Petra. She leaned forward, lifting one of the braids with her delicate fingertips to admire her handiwork.

“But it is the truth.” Petra moved her hand to give the tip of Bernadetta’s nose a playful tap. The noblewoman ducked into the jacket completely, her face baking in her embarrassment.

The lack of words from Petra had Bernadetta peeking out from the recess of her uniform. Her eyes went wide.

Petra had let her hair down. The mulberry cascade veiled her eyes until she tossed it over her shoulder and tucked the stray strands behind her ear.

“Bernie,” she said, lips parting to flash a grin, “I am knowing you like the insect-eating plants, but you should not be trying to catch the flies.”

Bernadetta snapped her jaw shut. It was a marvel she didn’t faint right then and there.

Petra beckoned her closer, and she complied, dragging herself through the grass on her hands and knees to plop herself down at Petra’s side. The princess began her demonstration once Bernadetta had settled, speaking through each step to the best of her ability. The couple of times she flubbed her words were laughed off by the two of them.

When it came time for Bernadetta to make an attempt, she had a hard time keeping her hands still. Seeing herself so worked up made it easy for her to slip into her mindset of wanting to just flee to escape the discomfort. She’d been out of her room for...how long now? She should go back, right?

She managed to get a start on the braid, despite her urge to give up. So far, it looked just like the one Petra had showed her, though. Maybe Bernie could do this?

The rhythm of each weave settled her nerves. Actually, it wasn’t any different from her needlework, or her sketching for that matter. Once her hands eased into the movements, she could relax and just focus on what was in front of her. The sensation of Petra’s silky hair sliding between her fingertips was definitely new, but it was engrossingly pleasant.

Once she finished, she withdrew her hands and slid one up the back of her head to grab a fistful of her own purple locks.

“Did I do it right?” she asked, apprehension slipping into her voice. Petra smiled as she felt for the braid Bernie had just finished.

“You did. I was suspecting that you would be able to do it. You have my— no. Thank you, Bernie.”

“Oh, that’s a relief,” Bernadetta muttered. She quickly cleared her throat. “Uhm...c-can I try another one?”

“I would be liking that greatly, Bernadetta!” Petra exclaimed, features lighting up with delight. The reaction sent a rush of joy to Bernadetta’s thrumming heart.

She soon forgot about that itching desire to shut herself away again. After all, if she did that, she wouldn’t be able to see Petra so ecstatic.

A hum rose to her throat as she got to work on the second braid. She did nothing to stifle it.


	3. waltz

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bernadetta finds that she's not the only one out late. A moment is shared in the moonlight.

Sneaking out in the dead of night meant she would be in the presence of no one except the crickets and frogs. Sure, there was the occasional church soldier walking by, but Bernadetta was well attuned to the advantage her stature gave her when it came to sneaking around.

Her aim, of course, was getting back to her own room. She’d spent all evening in the greenhouse, sketching the various flowers she had patiently been waiting to see bloom for the past week.

She carefully shut the door behind her and leaned against it, taking in her surroundings before she began her silent trek back to her dorm. Before she could take her first step, the movement of water had her snapping her head toward the pond.

There weren’t monsters in the water, were there?

She ducked behind a hedge before peering out at the pond, the surface of which shimmered with reflected moonlight. A scatter of ripples and splashes were churned up by a pair of feet dangling off of the dock. With a frown, Bernadetta crept toward the water, hoping to discover the identity of the figure.

Bernadetta rounded the pond with quiet footsteps. She winced every time her boots scuffed on stone, pausing to peek and confirm that she had not been noticed.

When she finally approached the dock, she dropped to her hands and knees, crawling up beside a large crate to conceal herself.

“Bernadetta.”

A half-squeak, half-bark that sounded horrifically unpleasant to her own ears was uttered in her shock. She clamped a hand over her mouth as she fell backwards in a nearly comical way. A soft lilt of laughter escaped the girl at the water’s edge.

“H-How!? I swear, you _do_ have a second set of eyes! A-And night vision!”

“I have told you, it is nothing like that!” Petra giggled. “I have learned the sound of Bernie’s footsteps.” She tapped her fore and middle fingers on the dock, mimicking a walking pair of legs. “Quiet and wary. With...calculation. Like the steps of a deer.”

“A-A deer?”

“Yes, a deer. But I will not be shooting you! Please, do not have worry. You do not need to be the deer around me, Bernie.”

“Right…”

“Will you be joining me? The water has beauty. It is also...feeling good on the feet.”

“I...sure. Yeah. That sounds really nice.”

Bernadetta kicked her boots off before making her way to Petra’s side. She settled down, dangling her legs off the dock and submerging her feet in the water below. She gasped, fighting the instinct to recoil at the cold temperature. Though she managed to adapt to the chill, she still flinched away from the foot she made accidental contact with. Petra quickly muttered an apology.

Oh, but clearly that had been _Bernie’s_ fault, so why was _she_ apologizing—

“So, why have you come out here when it is so late? I was thinking you would be sleeping at a time like this one.”

“Oh. Well,” Bernadetta began, kicking her feet back and forth as a hand drifted up to pull at her curls. “I actually just left the greenhouse. It’s a nice place to sit. With the plants. Alone.”

“Alone. Yes. You like to be alone.”

“I do.”

“Are you never thinking that some things are better...not alone?”

“Huh? I mean, I guess. What things, exactly?”

“Things like...this one. Admiring beauty.”

Bernadetta’s mind drifted a moment, the recollection stirring of Caspar sharing a certain view with her. She melted into a smile.

“Yeah. Yeah, I guess this sort of thing is nice with another person.” She watched the water as it rolled into little waves, produced by the gentle paddling of their feet. The smile grew wider as she fiddled with a few strands of hair by her ear. “It’s nice with you.”

Petra went still for a moment, long enough for Bernadetta to wonder if she had said something wrong.

“I know of many places in Brigid that have beauty. Maybe you can be sharing them with me one day, Bernie.”

“Huh? B-Brigid? What reason would I have to go to some place like Brigid? My father would never allow that. Besides, that sounds...scary.”

“I will be finding a way,” Petra stated, turning to Bernadetta. Even in the moonlight, she could see the fire burning in the princess’ eyes. “A way that neither you or your father can be refusing.”

Bernadetta giggled, though a hint of sadness trickled into her voice in the form of a soft quake.

“That sounds really unlikely, Petra. But...it’s a nice thought.”

“You will see, Bernadetta. I will not be losing.”

It was silent between them as Bernadetta redirected her gaze to the pond’s surface; the only noises that filled the air were the chirps of crickets and the quiet splashes in the water. Oh, and Petra’s breathing. Oddly enough, it seemed to blend in with the comfort of the nighttime ambience.

Without warning, Petra extracted her feet, shifting back on the dock to stand. Bernadetta watched, brow pinched in confusion. She was soon presented with an outstretched hand.

“Dance with me, Bernie.”

“... _huh?_ Dance? Here? B-But there’s no music, and I-I don’t know if I—”

Petra clasped her hand around Bernadetta’s, giving her a tug and urging her to stand. Bernadetta, though still wide-eyed and bewildered by the sudden and very eager request, scrambled to her feet. She was led away from the water’s edge, the soles of her feet met with the coolness of the ground beneath.

She heard Petra mutter to herself, unintelligible to Bernadetta’s ears. She worried, of course, that _she_ may be the subject of whatever Petra just said under her breath. Petra didn’t seem _mad,_ though; so maybe it was okay?

Her hand was brought to rest upon Petra’s shoulder. The other was grasped rather forcefully at first, only for Petra to ease her grip and whisper an apology. With their palms pressed together, Bernadetta couldn’t help but take notice of how clammy Petra’s felt.

“Am I...doing it correct?” Petra asked.

“Yeah. Yeah, this feels right. Uhm, though I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to put your other hand on my waist.”

“Your waist. Ah.” Bernadetta felt Petra’s hand come to rest gently upon her waist as instructed. A rush of heat rose to her cheeks. “Like this?”

“Yeah.”

“I have been learning Fódlan’s dance from Dorothea,” Petra explained. “I think I am remembering most of it.”

“Well, uhm, I’m not very good at it. I’ll probably step on your feet, so...please don’t get mad.”

“I will not.”

The first steps were slow and uncertain. Bernadetta hoped that Petra couldn’t feel her trembling with them being this close together.

As predicted, Bernadetta felt her foot land on her partner’s.

“I’m sorry!” she immediately cried.

“It is fine, Bernie.”

They fell back into their stumbling search for a rhythm, which only lasted for a few seconds before Petra stepped on Bernadetta’s toes. The princess immediately erupted into giggles.

“See? We are sharing the same difficulties. You will not upset me.”

Bernadetta smiled at that. Then, she let out an amused snort.

“Why dance with me, then? If you know we’re both terrible at it?”

“Because the dance of Fódlan is done with another. It is better when we are doing it together.”

“But I keep messing up.”

“That does not matter, Bernadetta. What is mattering to me is you are not alone. We are...messing up together. We are both learning from the mistakes. Do you not think it is better that way?”

Bernadetta hummed, dropping her head down to observe their staggering steps. Her toes once again grazed Petra’s, though this time she laughed it off before adjusting the placement of her feet.

They eventually found a steady movement, though it was nothing extravagant or fit for a ballroom. But it didn’t need to be. Simply swaying in time to the tune they’d found in the night had Bernie’s heart soaring.


	4. perseverance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As always, Bernadetta has her doubts. Petra is able to help.

Bernadetta’s recent dedication to archery was becoming more apparent — to herself at least, though she feared the changes may be picked up on by others. She only really felt the callouses on her fingers when she was working away with the needle, but it was during those times that she’d find herself pausing to stare at her hands.

There was appeal to a woman who was petite and delicate, and Bernadetta sensed that she was straying from that by the day. It wasn’t that she felt a need to remain ‘lady-like’ for herself, but she couldn’t help but feel it was expected of her.

More reason to hide away in her room, where no one could see her and become disappointed.

There was a knock at the door, shaking her from her thoughts. She nearly dropped the needle in her hand, but she was quick to catch and berate herself for being so jumpy.

“Wh-What? Who is it?” she called. It seemed the tremble in her voice was inevitable.

“It is Petra. Have you forgetting—” she could hear a nervous clearing of the throat on the other side of the door. “Have you forgotten? We were going to train together today.”

Bernadetta’s heart dropped. She had been hoping Petra would forget about that!

Oh, but it wasn’t like she didn’t want to spend time with Petra! It was simply a day where Bernie felt rather distraught at the prospect of going outside.

Still, she placed her work on the desk and got up to shuffle close to the door. She didn’t want to upset her friend by ignoring her.

Carefully, she opened the door a smidge — just enough for her to catch a glimpse of Petra. Their eyes met, and Bernadetta grew conscious of her meek demeanor under Petra’s gaze.

The discomfort was brief. Petra’s features softened when she smiled, and Bernadetta had never felt so warm and bubbly before.

Weird. She brought a hand up to clutch at her jacket. Her heart felt kind of funny at the moment, and she was wondering if she could use that as an excuse to skip out on training.

“Uhm,” she began. She swallowed. “W-Were we gonna do that...right now?”

“Mhm! You had said ‘after noon,’ and it is…” Petra paused to lean away from the door, peering out at the sky. She quickly spun around, that smile still proudly plastered on her face. “After noon!”

“Oh, gosh,” Bernadetta muttered, knowing full well that Petra was not going to let her slip out of this easily. Still, it was worth a shot. “Y-You see, I— I think I might be sick! Y-Yeah. I feel kind of...warm.”

It wasn’t a lie.

That smile finally fell, and Bernie knew she made a mistake. Before she could stutter out an apology, Petra spoke again.

“You are thinking you are ill? Let me be checking.”

“H-Huh? I—”

She jumped when Petra pressed a hand to her forehead, and the sensation instantly sparked a tug-of-war in her mind between the urge to pull away and the desire to lean into the touch. The natural reaction was to freeze up at the presence of these conflicting feelings — which Bernie did.

Frowning, Petra removed her hand. Bernie figured that would be it, and she could let herself relax after the unexpected contact. But she was wrong.

Petra brought her forehead flush against hers, hands gently holding her in place. Bernadetta drove her teeth hard into her bottom lip to prevent the squeal in her throat from escaping. The tickling sensations of Petra’s nose and breath only fueled the frenzy of her thoughts.

Bernie was absolutely burning, and there was _no_ way Petra would _not_ notice.

The noblewoman held back a gasp when her friend finally pulled away.

“You are not seeming to have too much warmth, but if you are feeling unwell I should be taking you to the infirmary.” That certainly backfired.

“Oh, no no no! You don’t have to do that! I’ll stay riiiight here!”

“Bernadetta, I am insist—”

“A-Actually? You know what? I think I’m feeling better!”

“Then...you will be coming to train with me?”

Great.

Bernadetta sighed. Though, she found herself feeling a bit better about leaving her room. It wouldn’t be so bad if she was doing it to be with Petra.

Just her and Petra. No one else. That sounded nice.

Bernadetta swiped her training bow from the corner of her room and slung her quiver over her shoulder before making her way outside.

“Alright,” she said, standing tall as she faced her friend. Petra beamed.

“Then let us be going!”

In an instant, a hand clamped around Bernadetta’s, and she was being dragged off to the training grounds. She raised a fuss about it, as she was naturally upset by such rough handling with no warning. At the cost of giving passersby a ring in their ears, Bernadetta convinced Petra to let her follow on her own volition.

Perhaps it was the satisfaction of seeing her arrows hit their target that kept Bernadetta relatively calm with the bow in her hand. There was definitely something empowering in witnessing it and being able to say ‘wow, I did that.’

After letting another arrow loose, Bernadetta once more found herself distracted by the rough spots on her hand. As she lowered her bow her gaze dropped to her palm, where she rubbed at the callouses with her thumb.

“Why are you stopping? You are...doing well, Bernie.”

“Huh? Oh.” Bernadetta tightened her grip around her bow, ensuring that she didn’t drop it when she flinched upon hearing Petra’s voice so close to her. Seriously, when did she get so close? And how was she so quick to notice?

“You are having the look of trouble.” Bernadetta cocked an eyebrow, and Petra jumped to correct herself. “What I am meaning is, you look like there is something giving you trouble.”

“O-Oh. Yeah, I guess you could say that. It’s just...maybe Bernie isn’t cut out for this.”

“I am disagreeing with you,” Petra said softly, taking Bernadetta’s free hand into her own. Unable to grab at her hair with her other, Bernie clenched the bow in her fist. “You have gained strength and confidence. I have admiration!”

“Petra…” she trailed off into a giggle. “Are you sure?”

“Yes! Chin up, Bernie.” As she gave the command, Petra lifted her friend’s chin with a finger, at which Bernie squeaked. “Have pride, not shame.”

“I...I’ll try. F-For you.” Her cheeks went warm after uttering that. Petra laughed.

“No, Bernadetta, not just for me. Be proud for Bernie.”

“I...y-yeah. Okay.”

Bernadetta squawked when she was abruptly lifted into the air by the princess. She clamped her arms around Petra’s back to brace herself as she was spun around.

“P-Petra!” she yelled over her companion’s laughter. “P-Put me down!”

“Oh! Please accept my apologies, Bernie.” Bernadetta sighed in relief at having the ground beneath her feet again. The twirl had left her dizzy, and she promptly stumbled forward for Petra to catch her. A shared giggle arose from both of them. Bernadetta felt her entire body grow hot again.

She was starting to think there was an explanation for this funny feeling, but she’d worry about that later.


	5. warmth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bernadetta is willing to lend Petra whatever she needs.

As the weather got colder, there was certainly less reason for Bernie to leave her room. Sometimes she envied the animal she had been named after; an excuse to sleep through a few moons out of the year sounded like utter bliss.

Despite her desire to stick to her reclusive tendencies, it was hard to resist the temptation of a warm meal in the dining hall. Slipping out for a quick meal with the Professor sounded perfectly tolerable that afternoon.

They were joined by Linhardt, which initially felt like a bit of a betrayal as she figured the only person she would be expected to interact with was the Professor. It didn’t seem like Linhardt was too keen on being social either, so the trio settled with stuffing their faces in silence. 

After a meal like that, Bernadetta felt like she could do anything; which is why she decided to head straight back to her room. She exited the dining hall with a full stomach and a little hop in her step.

“Ah, Bernadetta!”

Bernadetta felt her heart skip a beat even before she spun around to see Petra approach her with a stack of books in her arms. They looked about ready to topple over, and that sight sent a shuddering ripple of anxiety up Bernadetta’s spine. Thankfully, Petra spoke before Bernadetta could make any embarrassing noises.

“I, uhm,” Petra stopped, eyes darting around as she seemingly tried to search for the right words in the air before her. “I am sorry to be asking, but...are you able to give me your help? I do not want to be dropping anything.”

“I can help!” Bernie immediately replied, shocking herself. She thought about retracting the statement — since now, she couldn’t make her retreat back to the den — but the consideration was thrown out the window when Petra beamed at her.

“You have my gratitude, Bernie! Here, you can be— uhm, you can take the books that are on the top.”

Petra kept the teetering tower steady as Bernadetta gathered part of the stack into her own arms.

“Where are we taking these?”

“To my room.”

“Huh? All of them?"

She didn’t know why Petra found the question so amusing, or why she suddenly felt tingly when Petra laughed.

“Yes, all of them.”

Bernadetta felt a shake in every step she took on their way to the dorms. While she was used to the feeling of nerves, she’d deduced it was different than what preceded her panics. Turning her head toward the girl beside her, her suspicions were confirmed when she felt another, nearly painful throb in her chest; she only ever felt this weird around Petra.

“Bernie.”

“Huh?”

Bernadetta felt herself biting back a smile when she heard Petra giggle again.

“My room is right here.”

With a blush, Bernadetta realized she had wandered a bit further than she should have.

“R-Right! I knew that!”

She scurried over to Petra’s side as the princess shifted her load of books into one arm to open the door. Pushing it open with her foot, she beckoned Bernie inside with just a smile. Bernadetta stumbled in after her, trying not to think too much about how hot her face felt.

“The books can be set here,” Petra directed, placing her own half of the stack on the desk. Nodding, Bernadetta followed suit.

Her eyes lit up upon catching the words on the cover of the book on top of the pile.

“Oh, I’ve read this one!” she chirped joyfully, flipping open ‘Language of Fódlan’s Flowers’ to grin fondly at the pages she was familiar with. A giggle to her left alerted her to Petra’s presence before she leaned on the desk and peeked over her shoulder.

“I was thinking of Bernie when I found it.”

“Me?” With a squeak, Bernadetta turned to face Petra. The latter was quick to avert her eyes, the corner of her mouth twitching as she slowly smirked.

“You know a lot about flowers. You are Botanical Bernie, yes?” Bernadetta blushed at the usage of the nickname and the chuckle that shortly followed. “I had think...uhm, I mean...I thought I would learn. Then I would have a thing to speak with Bernie about.”

“Oh. Petra, that’s really sweet of you. B-But I’m sure you don’t really want to hear what I have to say—”

“I do,” Petra immediately interjected. She placed a hand over Bernadetta’s, halting her from turning the page — and nearly doing the same to her heart in the process. Bernadetta followed Petra’s gaze as it dropped from her face to the book in front of them.

“Tell me about them.”

“H-Huh?”

“The sunflowers.”

“What...what about them?”

“Anything.”

And so Bernadetta spilled any knowledge she could recall — to all of which Petra silently listened. When she finished her monologue, which Bernadetta feared may have sounded too rambly, Petra leaned over her shoulder to peer at the page below them.

“And in Fódlan, you are gifting sunflowers to those you have feelings of admiration for?”

“Y-Yeah.”

“I have understanding,” Petra muttered. “They...have a lot of beauty. They really are reminding me of the sun.”

“Yeah! And when it’s warm, whole fields of them grow. Oh, but you probably won’t find them at this time of the year.”

“That...is unfortunate. Maybe I will be seeing them when the warm weather has returned.”

With a soft sigh, Petra placed her head on Bernadetta’s shoulder. The noblewoman didn’t know how to respond. Hopefully Petra couldn’t hear how crazy her heartbeat sounded. She couldn’t, right?

Thankfully, she didn’t have to utter anything in response.

“I am never liking Fódlan’s cold.”

“It’s not so bad. More reason to curl up inside under some blankets and do nothing.”

“I am preferring to do something, rather than nothing.” As she murmured her complaints into Bernie’s ear, her arms found their way around her waist. Bernadetta found herself enclosed in an embrace from behind.

“Petra?”

“Bernie has warmth.”

It was Bernadetta’s turn to laugh.

“If you hug me like this, your back is still going to be cold.”

She gently pushed Petra off of her so that she could move to face her. As Petra watched with a raised eyebrow, Bernadetta undid the front of her uniform jacket in order to shrug it off. With the garment now in hand, she did her best to help Petra slip into it.

“There,” Bernadetta breathed once she’d pulled the jacket snug around Petra. She didn’t bother buttoning it — the difference in their chests wouldn’t have left enough room for it to fit.

Oh, goodness. Maybe she should have thought about that before she gave her the jacket. But then Petra would think she was looking at her chest, wouldn’t she? And then she’d get upset—

“Bernie.”

“Hah! Huh?”

“You have my thanks. I am feeling warmer.”

“You are? That’s good. You can, uhm...you can keep it for as long as you need. You know, so you can keep warm but...you don't have to stay inside.”

But it doesn’t even fit! What was she thinking?

“I am liking this idea. But, will you not be having coldness without it?”

“I’ll be fine. I was planning on going back to my room, so…”

“Oh! Yes. Thank you for helping me carry the books, Bernadetta.”

“Y-Yeah! You’re welcome! So...uhm...I’ll see you later, right?”

“Yes.”

“O-Okay! See you, Petra.”

Bernadetta took her leave before she decided to stutter herself further into humiliation. At least Petra had been smiling when she left. Bernie had work to do if she wanted to see that again. After shutting her door behind her, she quickly got to locating her knitting supplies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for prioritizing my modern au fic over this one ;)
> 
> I have another chapter in the works. It'll be a bit longer than the others and hopefully it will start tying together what plot this thing does have...?


	6. exchange

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Doing some things required a bit more courage than she was used to, but she could certainly do it for Petra.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slowly finding the motivation to keep adding to this (and if you've been reading I want to thank you because that's so awesome)!! This one is a bit longer than the others :)) Hope no one minds.

Bernadetta took a deep breath as she spread the garment across her desk and took a step back to admire her own work. She had pride in every little project she completed, and this was no exception. It had taken longer than she wanted to, but the sweater was finally finished. In her hurry to get it done, she ended up ripping out and reworking the pattern on the chest a few times, but that was well worth the effort.

The sunflower she had knitted brought a grin to her face. It looked just like the real thing, she thought. Now, she just had to hope Petra had the same reaction.

Her satisfaction and glee fled the front of her mind in that instant. The dread lapped at her neck, and suddenly the sunflower didn’t seem as bright as it had just a second before. What if it wasn’t good enough? With a fist clenched almost painfully around the bundle of hairs on the back of her head, she stared at the sweater draped across the surface of her desk.

When she heard the knock on her door, she immediately grabbed the sweater and threw it on her bed in an unidentifiable heap beside her bed clothes.

“Bernadetta! Bernie, are you in there?”

Bernadetta’s heart lurched, and she did along with it, grasping the back of the desk chair for balance.

“Y-Yeah? Where else would I be?” she managed to answer.

“I was going to be checking the greenhouse.”

“Oh. Yeah, that makes sense. D-Do you need me? For something?” This wasn’t a surprise training session, was it?

“I...I am wanting you to meet someone! A friend!” A pause. “Will you be coming?”

“A...friend? Oh, I’m not sure, Petra. That sounds—”

“I know you will be...getting along. She is already very friendly with Caspar.”

Bernadetta crept closer to the door.

“Uhm...and you’re sure she even wants to meet me? Why me?”

“Because you are my friend, Bernie! And she has already had meeting with everyone else in our class.”

“Oh, right. Okay, okay, fine. Give me a moment.”

“I will be standing here.”

Yeah, Bernadetta figured there wasn’t any use slipping out of something Petra was so determined in getting her to do.

She looked back at the pathetic lump of yarn on her bed. Pulling at her bangs, Bernadetta scanned the room for her satchel.

This might as well be a brave day for Bernie.

She snatched her bag and the sweater, stuffing the latter into the compartment. She slipped the satchel on over her shoulder and marched her way over to the door.

Swinging it open, her eyes immediately locked with Petra’s. There was a spark of excitement in those brown irises that sent Bernadetta’s heart aflutter with both panic and endearment (as she was now calling it), and Petra’s hand shot out to grab Bernadetta’s.

What Bernie didn’t expect was the hesitation. Petra’s fingers lingered over Bernadetta’s for a moment before the hand was retracted.

“Bernadetta,” Petra said, instead offering her hand, palm upturned and waiting, “will you be coming with me?”

“Y-Yeah!” Bernadetta stuttered, sliding her hand into Petra’s.

Petra was still rather eager to drag her off, but she couldn’t help but giggle as she stumbled after her.

They stopped on the lawn in front of the classrooms, which — to Bernadetta’s surprise — was empty. She figured there would be more people out and about on the weekend. Though, she realized there may have been a reason the area was unoccupied when Petra’s whistle cut through the silence.

A wyvern made its descent from wherever it had been perching beforehand, landing in front of the pair. Bernadetta immediately tried to conceal herself behind her taller classmate.

“W-W-What—”

“Do not have fear, Bernie. She will not give you harm.”

Despite Petra’s words, Bernadetta screeched when the creature approached with a stomp. Without flinching, Petra welcomed the wyvern closer, grabbing ahold of her face.

A tongue coated Petra’s face in wyvern slobber, and Bernadetta gaped in horror as Petra just stood there and laughed.

“See?” she asked, turning to Bernadetta with a grin. “Come say hello, Bernie.”

Brave Bernie, brave Bernie…

The noblewoman took a step toward the creature and was immediately blasted in the face with hot breath.

“D-Don’t eat me, please!” She shouted, the sound threatening to break classroom windows. “I’m sure I taste horrible—!”

“Relax, Bernie.” She flinched when she felt a pair of hands on her shoulders. “Nobody will be eaten.”

Bernadetta still stood rigid as a leathery nose butted against her face. She recoiled from the warm puff of air it blew into her eyes. Petra kept her from falling backward.

“She smells funny,” she managed to murmur, though the pounding in her chest was still enough to make her ears ache.

Petra laughed.

“It...takes some getting used to. Would you like to go for a ride?”

“Would I... _ huh?” _

“It will be fun! I will help you up.”

“Wait! I didn’t agree to this!” Bernadetta barked, shoving Petra away from her.

“Oh...I am sorry. I was carrying you away. Ah, no. I was getting carried away,” Petra corrected (though she wasn’t necessarily wrong the first time), brow furrowing as she averted her eyes regretfully. Bernadetta sighed.

“I’ll go.” She bit her lip. Petra immediately perked up, shining once more like the little sun she was. Bernadetta blushed as she fiddled with her curls. “But if I say I want to get off, you’ll let me off, right?”

“Of course, Bernadetta. I do not wish you discomfort.”

“Right. Right! Okay, yeah. Bernie’s gonna be brave today.” After making her declaration, she turned to face Petra’s wyvern companion.

Yeah, she could do this.

Even with as much as she was shaking, she managed to climb on — with Petra’s help, of course. She settled as comfortably she could behind Petra. Now, she’d been on a horse before, but she’d always been...well, alone.

“You will be needing to hold on to me. I do not want you to fall.”

“R-Right. I don’t want that either.” She was pretty sure her face felt a bit hotter than it had before. Still trembling, Bernadetta wrapped her arms around Petra’s waist — freezing for a moment when her grazing touch tickled a chuckle out of her friend. With a hesitant huff, Bernadetta braced herself against Petra with a squeeze. “L-Like this?”

“Mhm! Hold on with tightness, Bernie.”

“Oh, t-trust me, I am!”

She should have expected Petra to give her little time to prepare. With another whistle, Petra had them in the air, and Bernadetta responded to the unannounced departure the only way she knew how. Though, if her wail had been a bother to Petra’s ears — as she was quite sure it had to have been — she didn’t say anything about it. Bernie would apologize later, when she wasn’t fearing for her life.

Actually, it wasn’t too bad. Once she realized she’d be fine as long as she didn’t let go, there was no reason to scream. After all, she certainly had no intention of letting go. She tightened her hold.

“Th-Thank you,” she muttered, face pressed into the fabric of Petra’s uniform shirt.

“Did you say something?” Petra called back. Bernadetta lifted her head.

“I said thank you!”

“You are giving me thanks? For what?”

“For doing this with me! I never would have on my own.”

“So you are having fun?”

Bernadetta looked down. Her stomach dropped at the sight of the distance between them and the ground, but she didn’t dwell on it.

“Yeah, I think so.”

“I am...grateful that you joined me today, Bernie. There is a place I am wanting to take you. I think it will bring you joy!”

“M-Me? Take me?”

“Hold on!”

Of course, just as Bernadetta was getting used to being up in the air, the wyvern began making its descent. Her fingers dug into Petra’s uniform just as her teeth did her lip, holding in another scream. With her eyes shut, she clung as closely as she could to the girl in front of her until everything stopped moving.

“Bernie, we have made landing on the ground now. You can...let go.”

Bernadetta slowly loosened her hold, prompting a relieved sigh from Petra. She blinked tears from her eyes.

“Oh, oh! I’m so sorry, I must have been hurting you—”

“Do not have worry, I am not injured. But, you are stronger than you think you are, Bernie.” And with that, Petra slid off of the beast and landed — quite gracefully, Bernie thought — on her feet. She spun around to help Bernadetta off.

“This...where are we?” she asked, once her own feet had made contact with the ground. Still shaky, she held onto Petra while she found her balance.

It was a cozy little clearing. The trees that encircled them provided cover, though speckles of light spotted the grass with shimmering patches of sunlight; just the right amount to remind Bernadetta she was outside without the anxiety that came from standing in an open field.

“I discovered it while hunting,” Petra explained, puffing up with pride. “I remember thinking, Bernie will like this place!” She turned to look at the noblewoman. “Am I correct?”

“It’s perfect, Petra,” Bernadetta answered, unable to stop the amused titter that followed. Petra’s expression melted into one of pure delight.

Bernadetta’s hand dropped to rest on her satchel. Nobody was around — aside from the wyvern, but she wasn’t really a problem in Bernie’s mind anymore — to see her fumble through this; so, maybe she could do it.

“I, uhm...also, have something for you, Petra.”

The princess cocked an eyebrow, silently observing Bernadetta’s hesitant movements as she shifted to open her bag. She reached in and froze the minute her hand grasped the sweater. This was a terrible time for second-guessing, but Bernadetta could feel her whole body getting uncomfortably hot.

“Uhm.” She cleared her throat, angling her head toward the grass at her feet as she presented the sweater with shaky, sweaty hands. “This. I-I made this for you.”

She was definitely holding her breath at this point.

“Oh, Bernie.” Her eyes were shut tight again, just like they had been moments ago when she was anticipating a crash. “This is...giving me great joy! It has...it is perfect!”

“A-Are you sure?” Bernadetta asked, too curious to cower any longer. Petra gathered the sweater in her own hands, easing it out of her grip.

“Yes, with...yes! Absolutely.” Petra’s embarrassment over her clumsy words emerged on her cheeks in a blush, which she quickly hid by sliding the sweater on over her head. Seeing her slip in on so easily was a relief — trusting Dorothea to give her Petra’s measurements had been the right call after all…even if it meant her friend being overly inquisitive about the reason behind it. “Perfection!”

Bernadetta was prepared for the big hug Petra scooped her into. It was tighter than she remembered — she wondered if it was due to Petra picking up habits from Caspar or the muscle she had been gaining. She returned the embrace with a squeeze of her own, fingers bunching up knitted yarn as she clung to Petra’s shoulders.

“I’m so glad!” Bernadetta finally beamed, looking up at her friend when she was finally released. “It looks really good on you.”

“It does? I will be wearing it everywhere, then.”

“O-Oh, you don’t have to do that.”

“And I will be telling everyone that it was Bernie who made it for me.”

“Petra!” Bernadetta wailed, pulling her hood up to hide her reddening face. “Don’t embarrass me!”

“I am an embarrassment?”

“No! That’s not what I— ugh,” she sighed, her hands dropping her hood in favor of pinching and pulling her coils of hair. Her eyes fell to Petra’s boots as her lips curled into a shy smile. “I’m just really glad you like it. It’s...the least I can do. You’re always doing so much for me.” She clenched her fist, which she had dug into the curls on the back of her head. “I don’t think anyone else could have convinced me to come outside today…”

“Oh, but I am sure Caspar, Edelgard, and the Professor—”

“You’re different,” Bernadetta found herself blurting. Her fingers were nervously combing through her bangs now. “I-I can’t explain it...all I know is I feel kind of...warm? When I’m with you. A-A good warm. I think.”

She looked up just in time to see Petra blink in confusion.

“Warm? Ah!” The gasp of realization gave Bernie a start. “I am understanding! I am also having warmth when I am with you.”

She giggled as she slid her hand into Bernie’s — the one that had untangled itself from her hair and fallen to her side.

“R-Really? Oh...I thought you were about to call me silly...or crazy...or something…”

“Nope!”

Bernadetta hummed, squeezing the hand that was now gently clasped around her own.

“Can we stay here for just a little longer?” she asked, looking up at Petra almost pleadingly.

“I am needing to do my training soon,” Petra replied. She peered through the canopy and smiled. “But maybe I can be staying.”

“Great!”

“But I will only be staying with a…condition.”

“Huh? A condition?”

“I want to be dancing with you again,” requested Petra, placing her other hand on Bernadetta’s waist. The latter promptly blushed, but she was quick to extract her hand from the tangle on her head to place it on Petra’s shoulder.

“O-Okay, but don’t expect Bernie to be any better at it.”

“Then I will help Bernie get better.” With a grin, Petra led Bernadetta into the first few steps; and Bernie followed with determination.


End file.
